


Babysitting vs Bastardsitting

by 1helluvabutler



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, M/M, babysitter!au, kakuhida rbb, kakuzu doesnt get paid enough for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 15:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1helluvabutler/pseuds/1helluvabutler
Summary: Kakuzu really did find the new neighbor kid annoying. Unfortunately for him, the kid’s mother seemed to be operating with the universal understanding that the easiest way to get a babysitter, was to pay your neighbor’s teenage son.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally participated in a reverse big bang!!!! and kinda like the hxhbb, this turned out over 10k longer than planned and plans were a bit rushed but!!!! im done!!!!  
> AND NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE WITHOUT SHADOW'S ASTOUNDING ART AND THE REST OF THE KAKUHIDA REVERSE BIG BANG !!!! CHECK THEM OUT PLEASE!!!

It all started with that damn moving van. 

Took a single day for all of Kakuzu’s semi-peace and quiet to be ruined forever, as the van hauled a small mountain’s worth of furniture and a two-person family into the empty apartment next to his own. 

Kakuzu's parents went to greet the new tenants as soon as the biggest moving rush seemed over; Kakuzu, considering it a waste of time, did not. He had more pressing things to do, like sit in his own bed and pour over the three textbooks broken open and splayed over the mattress in an attempt to cement all the knowledge he needed for his test tomorrow.

He didn't even think about anything except molecules and cell structures until his apartment echoed with the voices of his returning parents.

And then somebody  _ screamed _ next door and swore so loud Kakuzu almost felt sorry for their vocal cords. Not an angry scream, at least not angry at anybody else as far as Kakuzu could tell. By the sound of it, somebody had...stubbed their toe? Kakuzu frowned. 

Seriously? All that was for a toe? Pathetic, he scoffed.

Hitting a toe hurt, but it wasn’t anything to-

This point in the night was apparently when the new neighbor next door decided to stub their  _ other  _ foot on a metal corner, if the profanity was anything to judge by.

_ Annoying. _ Kakuzu narrowed his eyes, getting his headphones ready to block out the rant; only to discover that whoever was now living on the other side of his wall had lungs stronger than the tunes playing in his cheap-ish headphones.

What the fuck.

Kakuzu decided that he did not like his neighbors.

 

\---

 

A few months and Kakuzu had to admit his attitude towards the new neighbors, the Yugakures, had changed a tiny bit. Not enough to, you know,  _ like _ them, but at least one of them was bearable neighbor material.

The mother was nice enough. Kakuzu didn’t know much about her except that she did the things asked of her when they were asked of her -unlike a certain  _ somebody  _ from apartment 42 a few doors down-, and whenever she baked, the entire floor would smell like cinnamon and burnt sugar.

The only thing about the Yugakures that truly ground Kakuzu’s nerves finer than a millstone was the kid. Kakuzu had only seen him exactly once in the hallway and had immediately been unimpressed to the very depths of his heart by the loud-mouthed, impatient little  _ brat _ that was his new neighbor.

It pissed him off how somebody he had only met once could annoy him so much.

In reality, Kakuzu’s problems with the annoyance really started with him coming home one day, just as Ms. Yugakure was leaving his apartment. Kakuzu nodded politely and got a quick greeting in return; she seemed in a hurry, pace on the brink of a run as she sped down the hallway with her messenger bag tight in her grip. Kakuzu watched her leave before he went inside.

"I'm home.”

“Kakuzu, perfect timing!” his mother called excitedly, right in the middle of clearing up the coffee table. “I just got you a job!”

Kakuzu paused, shoes half-way off his feet. Had he heard correctly? A job? 

Extra money was always great, but-

“What kind of job?” he asked cautiously. The last time his mother had found him a job without consulting him first, Kakuzu had been shipped off to the countryside and spent nearly his entire summer vacation selling some old guy’s farm products in a dinged-up market stall, constantly surrounded by stingy pensioners trying to haggle down the prices and throttled by the overwhelming smell of cabbages, onions, and wildflowers.

“Did you see Ms. Yugakure just now?” His mother broke him out of his thoughts with a vague gesture towards the front door, the cup of sugar cubes rattling in her hand as she walked towards the kitchen. “She has a 12 year old son, Hidan. I’m sure you know him.”

Kakuzu knew him. Kakuzu didn’t like him.

“She also found a new job recently, so she’s been looking for a babysitter for Hidan,“ his mother continued, seemingly completely oblivious to Kakuzu’s disgruntled expression as his mind connected two and two together.

No way. No goddamn way.

“You hired me out as a  _ babysitter _ ?”

He could practically see his mother raising an eyebrow, even in the other room with her back probably to him. "Is there something wrong with that?"

“When’s the last time you saw me spend time with kids?” Kakuzu called back as he narrowed his eyes. God, him as a  _ babysitter _ . Ridiculous.

“It’ll be fine. Hidan is almost thirteen, so you don’t need to fuss too much.”

Fuss. His mother was the only person he knew who still used the word  _ fuss _ . “If he’s that old, why does he need a babysitter?” He followed his mother into the kitchen.

“To keep an eye on him. Hidan is-” Kakuzu’s mother trailed off for a moment, seemingly trying to decide on a suitable word, "-interesting.” She made a vague gesture with the box of tea in her hand, before setting it back in the appropriate cupboard.

Kakuzu frowned. ‘“In what way?”

“Don’t fuss, you’ll be fine,” his mother waved an insistent hand. Again with the ‘fuss’.  “Although, I would recommend keeping him out of the kitchen.” At Kakuzu’s blank stare, she sighed. “From what his mother told me, Hidan is not -how should I say this- not exactly a chef.”

“So now I have to cook for him, too.” Kakuzu groaned. This job was sounding worse by the minute. 

“Not all the time.” His mother gave him a sympathetic look at Kakuzu sigh of defeat. “Think of it as practice for college, except you’re getting paid!”

“This kid sounds horrible.”

“I’m sure you’ll warm up to him eventually,” Kakuzu's mother gave him a reassuring smile.

Kakuzu did not feel reassured.

 

\-----

 

The first time Kakuzu ever went over, Hidan stared him down at the doorway for a solid minute, before he scoffed and moved aside to let Kakuzu into a cluttered apartment. Neither of them really said anything until Kakuzu was led into a small-ish bedroom he could only assume was the kid’s; he somehow doubted Ms. Yugakure would have gaming posters haphazardly tacked over duck-patterned wallpaper so obviously left by the previous tenants. School supplies and odd bits of childhood memorabilia littered the shelves; Kakuzu eventually had to tear his eyes off the picture frames and the glinting soccer trophy to finally get a proper silent stare-down with the brat next door.

“So you’re the asshole my mom hired,” was the first thing out of the kid’s mouth.

Kakuzu blinked in surprise. Alright.  “Kakuzu. You’re Hidan,” he said, trying to seem at least a miniscule bit friendlier than usual, for his wallet’s sake.

“Fucking duh.” The kid even looked like a Hidan. Silver-white unruly hair fell over a scuffed-up face; a bandaid was plastered under one of his bright, unusually magenta eyes staring judgingly up at Kakuzu. Somehow it made Hidan look younger than he was.

“So,” Kakuzu started and Hidan crossed his arms. God, this was awkward. Literally anyone else would have been better suited for this job. “What do you want to do?”

Hidan did something with his face that Kakuzu guessed was supposed to be a sneer. “None of your fuckin’ business.” 

Kakuzu felt annoyance seep into his initial embarrassment. Were 12-year olds always this pretentious? 

“Alright,” he raised his eyebrows in surrender. He had better things to do than start a measuring contest with a kid. “Do whatever you want, then. I need to study.”

For all his arrogance, Hidan obviously hadn’t been expecting that. 

“Seriously?” He uncrossed his arms, eyes widening. “Wait, fucking seriously?”

Kakuzu shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. Just don’t be too loud.” 

Hidan still looked like he was severely torn between pure happiness and actual shock. “Can I play video games?”

What was a babysitter supposed to say in this situation? Kakuzu had no idea. “Will you leave me alone if you can?”

“Shit, deal.” Hidan crossed his arms again, but he was grinning from ear to ear this time. “Y’know, none of the other assholes let me play video games.”

“I need to study,” Kakuzu said gruffly.

“Ooh, angry. There’s more space in the living room,” Hidan pointed through his poster-covered bedroom door. “Can I really do whatever I fucking want?”

Annoying. “If you ask me again, no.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

Kakuzu narrowed his eyes. “Don't get cocky.” 

Hidan snorted. “Heh,  _ cocky.”  _

Christ, Kakuzu really was dealing with a twelve year old.    


“Whatever, you can fuck off now,” Hidan waved him off like he was dismissing him. 

Kakuzu didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer. Instead, he left Hidan to clamber on the small-ish bed with a handheld console, while he himself settled down on the Yugakures’ living room with a bagful of textbooks. Tomato, tomahto, Kakuzu supposed as he spilled his bag contents over the carpet.

Couches and tables were convenient, but if you had as much homework as Kakuzu, the floor was the only option. 

He started with the book closest to him -history- and managed to work his way through nearly half his assignments before Hidan’s bedroom door swung open and a pair of small-ish skull patterned socks stepped into his line of sight.

“Oi, you.”

“Kakuzu.” He didn’t bother looking up.

Hidan sniffed. “Whatever. I’m bored.”

“Too bad.”

“Entertain me, asshole.”

Kakuzu crossed out a misspelled word on his page. “I’m busy. Go do something else.”

“I already beat my fucking game, what else do you want me to do?”

“Play another game.”

“Like what?"

Kakuzu closed his eyes. “Like  _ anything,  _ Hidan. I don’t know what games you have.”

Hidan made an annoyed noise and kicked a stray pencil; it hit Kakuzu square in the forearm, and Kakuzu stopped writing. Immediately, Hidan took off.

Whatever. Kakuzu resumed his work. 

However, Kakuzu had barely gotten half a sentence written when Hidan’s socks stomped back into his field of view. 

“I’m hungry.”

“So get something from the kitchen,” Kakuzu grunted, turning a page. The feet stood there a moment, then shuffled off.

Kakuzu managed six more pages before his vision began to swim and he actually had to physically focus on reading. Which meant that he was probably getting no more good work done tonight. Not really a surprise, he had been at it for, what, an hour now definitely? Fuck, nearly 2, Kakuzu checked his phone.

With a quiet groan, he  _ thunk _ ed his head onto the open textbook and closed his eyes. It felt nice to rest his face against the cool page, even with the weird smell of paper, smoke and lemon-scented carpet cleaner mixing in his nostrils.

Ugh.

Why did other people’s homes always smell so different, it wasn’t like the-

Kakuzu’s eyes snapped open. 

Smoke. 

To say Kakuzu ran was an overstatement. He, perhaps, powerwalked a bit nervously to the apartment’s kitchen - just to come face to face with the sight of a very pissed 12-year old using a wooden spatula to whack around the extremely charred and smoking remains of  _ something  _ in a frying pan.

Kakuzu stopped dead in his tracks. The slight sense of concern he had had tugging at his stomach was instantly blown away by a wave of anger. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Hidan looked up and stared at him like he’d just grown an extra head. “WHAT’S IT LOOK LIKE I’M FUCKING DOING?”

Kakuzu decided not to grace that with an answer. “WHAT IS THAT?” he asked instead, pointing exasperatedly at the smoking lump of ashes in the frying pan that Hidan  _ still  _ hadn’t removed from the heat for some reason.

“SCRAMBLED EGGS.”

Dear fucking god. 

“STOP YELLING.”

Hidan bared his teeth. “FUCK YOU.”

That was the final straw. Kakuzu took the few short steps to Hidan’s side and wrenched the pan from his hands, ignoring the shout of protest from the 12-year old. The acridic smell made his eyes water and he resisted the urge to cough as he set the hot pan in the sink to cool, careful not to dump any of its contents inside. Cool it off before the trash: he had a feeling that dumping something this hot straight into the trash can would only melt the plastic bag inside.

Kakuzu hadn’t even been in the kitchen for 30 seconds and he was already sweating. Hell,  this was awful. He had no idea how Hidan had stood it for long.

Speaking of Hidan. The kid looked like he was doing his best to blink back tears; not sad tears - if anything, Hidan looked angry. Kakuzu had no idea if it was because of the smoke, or the yelling match, or maybe just the frustration of being a bad cook, but - 

“Listen, I-” Fuck, was he supposed to apologize or something now? He had never been particularly good at that, especially with kids Hidan’s age. Kakuzu looked up at ceiling to gather his thoughts, the white stretch of slightly-peeling paint void of absolutely anything except a single fly in a corner. And then he frowned.

He pointed at the ceiling. “Where’s your smoke detector?”

“Don’t have one,” Hidan crossed his arms with a sniff. “Took it down when we moved in because the beeping fucking pissed me off.”

Kakuzu sighed. “Of course you did.”

“It’s not my fault it’s so fucking loud, and the stupid thing turned on every time-”

“Hidan, shut up,” Kakuzu interrupted. To his surprise, Hidan actually did. “Are you still hungry?”

“Obviously.”

Kakuzu sighed. He felt simultaneously way too old, and also not old enough to be doing this. This was only the first day. 

He pointed at the two chairs at the small kitchen table. “Sit,” he said. Hidan stared at him sceptically. Oh for- “Do you want to eat or not? Sit.”

Begrudgingly, Hidan did as he was told. He sat at the table and watched Kakuzu open the fridge and kitchen cupboards one by one on the hunt for things he could use. It wasn’t exactly an empty kitchen, but Kakuzu did have to reconsider some of the dinner ideas due to lack of ingredients.

“Christ, Hidan, what do you normally eat?” Kakuzu grumbled more to himself than actually Hidan, pushing aside three half-empty jars of jam in the fridge to reveal a shelf of prepackaged microwave dinners.

“Your mom.”

Fuck’s sake. Kakuzu closed his eyes and sighed before pulling his chosen things out of the fridge, ignoring Hidan snickering in the background. Really, a 12-year old.   
  


Kakuzu ended up making something easy with rice and tomato sauce.  Not his best, but far more edible than whatever Hidan had made, so who cared, he shrugged to himself as he piled it onto two plates.

Hidan pulled a face as Kakuzu set the plate down in front of him. “This looks fucking terrible.”

Kakuzu shot him a sharp look. “You’re welcome to finish your scrambled eggs.”

Hidan shut up at that. He stared dubiously at the mystery food for nearly three entire minutes before his stomach betrayed him by growling loudly and Hidan was forced to take a hesitant first bite.

“It’s cold,” was all he said.

“Too bad,” Kakuzu scoffed, already half-way through his own plate. Hidan frowned and took another forkful.

For what it was worth, Hidan did actually end up eating the entire plate, even if he did take an insanely long amount of time to do it. Then, he sat there in silence, staring at his babysitter with judging eyes.

“Your name’s Kakuzu?”

“It is,” Kakuzu nodded. Maybe this Hidan kid wasn’t so bad after all, it didn’t look like he burned his food on purpose, just the-

“So like, ‘Kuzu.”

What the fuck. “Don't do that.”

“Aw, why not, Kuzu?” Hidan snickered at the glare Kakuzu sent him. “You're just mad you can't shorten ‘Hidan’.”

“No.” Maybe he was just a tiny bit.  It was more about the extreme childishness of the nickname. “Don’t call me Kuzu.”

Hidan scoffed and pulled a face. “You’re no fucking fun,” he complained and started drumming his fork the empty plate with a disgustingly loud clinking noise. “Kuzu.”

It was official. Kakuzu did not like this kid.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Over the course of a week, Kakuzu had the (dis)pleasure of babysitting Hidan three more times and he was beginning to think the extra money almost wasn’t worth it.

Hidan wasn't disobedient per se; he just had the uncanny ability to push _exactly_ all the right buttons to get under Kakuzu’s skin. He couldn't cook, he wheedled Kakuzu for attention, he asked way too many questions about Kakuzu's hair, and, of course, all the _noise_ he made whenever Kakuzu needed to concentrate. Cocky, noisy, _annoying_ \- Hidan thought he was the hottest shit to live, and Kakuzu was still learning to tune him out when necessary.

It didn’t take long to figure out how to deal with him. Hidan liked all the things annoying 12 year-olds typically liked: pranks, bad video games, excessive swearing, and microwave dinners. If he could combine any of those into the same situation, he was happy for the next 20 minutes or so; after that, it was just a matter of time until Hidan came groaning about how bored he was and demanding Kakuzu do something.

So Kakuzu occasionally did something. He tried teaching the brat dumb card games which sometimes ended up in complete mayhem because they both had a competitive streak larger than the room itself, he watched Hidan swear himself hoarse at video games, he narrowed his eyes when Hidan scribbled on stuff, but didn’t really do anything because, who cared, it wasn’t _Kakuzu’s_ stuff.

And of course, the most important of all, he argued with Hidan.

Hidan was a little shitheel, and he loved to bicker and fight about _everything._ It took Kakuzu about a week to realize that, huh, maybe he _won’t_ actually be fired from babysitting if he cussed Hidan out for drawing dicks in his notebooks, or flipped him off as often as he was flipped off.  For reasons he couldn’t discern, Hidan enjoyed the banter as much as he enjoyed swearing.

It was driving Kakuzu insane, but honestly, if the alternative was quietly accepting Hidan sticking four wads of gum under his sneakers and then being told to eat a dick when he confronted the little bastard, then Kakuzu would rather be called insane.

Suspicious how he hadn't been fired yet. Kakuzu seriously wondered about that sometimes.

 

\------

 

Babysitters were supposed to be friendly, right? At least that’s what Kakuzu was pretty certain they usually got paid for. Be friendly(-ish) with the kid, entertain it, don’t let it microwave foil or accidentally kill itself with a tea-towel, things like that.

Small talk was friendly. Certainly friendlier than merely sitting on Hidan’s bed with him and watching him rage over a handheld console.

“So you like video games?” Kakuzu asked, and then immediately mentally slapped himself. Does he like video games, of course Hidan damn likes video games, what kind of question even was that.

Hidan’s brain was somehow, miraculously, just preoccupied enough with his game to ignore the question’s awkwardness. “Fucking yeah.”

Kakuzu hummed understandingly. Okay, he could work with this. “Any favorites?”

“Jashin,” Hidan said instantly. Jashin? Kakuzu frowned. He’d never even heard of it.

“What’s that?”

“The best game ever fucking made.” Hidan's hands stilled on the controller; his character fell off the screen with a screaming noise, but Hidan ignored it.

Kakuzu suddenly had a very ominous feeling as Hidan’s grin grew two sizes.

Oh boy. 

However talkative and loud Hidan had been until this point, it had been nothing, _nothing_ , compared to the avalanche of words that started pouring out of Hidan’s mouth now. Kakuzu couldn’t stop staring at the way Hidan’s entire demure seemed to change while talking about the apparently ‘god-tier’ game.

A quick and sneaky google search during Hidan’s rant told Kakuzu ‘Jashin’ was a small indie game, very gory, very crude and _extremely_ violent. No wonder Hidan worshipped it, Kakuzu thought as he clicked another link adorned with an odd symbol, casting glances at Hidan’s maniacal expression. The game seemed generally unknown, but those who _did_ know it, all seemed to warn people about Jashin’s small, but unwaveringly loyal and enthusiastic group of followers; a borderline cult they called it.

“-and they don’t even make any fucking merch, so we have to make it- fucking look at-” Somehow still talking, Hidan pulled his shirt collar down enough to unhook a thin chain around his neck and Kakuzu suddenly found his empty hand holding a very roughly made, but unmistakable pendant of the inverted triangle he had just seconds ago seen on all the Jashinist fansites.

“Made it with a weird fucking saw I found at school, it had a wire instead of the- uh, the cutty part, y’know?” Hidan mimicked something that Kakuzu guessed was supposed to be sawing.

“It looks-” Kakuzu trailed off, trying to find a suitable word that wouldn’t sound like a complete insult. The three metal lines were clunky in places and sanded unevenly, leaving a few jagged edges that looked capable of scratching the wearer as effectively as a knife; Kakuzu wouldn’t have worn it without a tetanus shot. Fuck, why did Hidan have to look so excited about this thing?

“Looks fuckin’ cool, huh?” Hidan, thankfully, interrupted before Kakuzu could accidentally slip out a real insult about the homemade artifact. “That’s Jashin’s symbol, it represents the-”

Kakuzu repressed a sigh. It was about to be a long day.

 

\----

 

His mother finally asked about the job about two weeks later at dinner. “How’s the babysitting going?”

Kakuzu chewed thoughtfully and swallowed his mouthful of salmon before answering, “It’s alright.”

“Is Hidan nice?” she asked, voice colored somewhere between genuinely interested and awkwardly patronizing. As parents do.

Kakuzu shrugged indifferently and speared another piece of fish with his fork. “Could be worse.”

 

\-----

 

A _whole_ day of babysitting as opposed to the 5 or so hours he normally did. Additionally to the normal card games and video games and markers he had amassed, a day like this would mean pulling out the big guns and desperate measures, otherwise known as coffee.

Coffee, which, Kakuzu didn’t have. To his dismay, he was out at the worst time possible. The plan was to go get coffee before he started.

Hidan would understand his plan, Kakuzu mused as he rang Hidan’s doorbell. All Kakuzu needed to do was convince Hidan to stay out of trouble for 20 extra minutes while he got his caffeine from the nearest possible spot. The Yugakures, for some insane reason, didn’t have any coffee either: only boxes of tea and a single large tin of hot chocolate powder could be found in the kitchen cupboards.

A rumbling of approaching feet thundered louder and the door was thrown open to reveal Hidan, already-excited and looking way too energetic for a 12 year old. “Kuzu!” 

“Can you survive alone long enough for me to get a coffee?”

Hidan blinked in confusion. “Just make some, you asshole,” he snorted as soon as the words had sunk in.

“I _can’t_ , I’m out of coffee,” Kakuzu growled. Hidan huffed dryly.

“Tough shit.”

Kakuzu felt like the frown lines on his forehead were going to become permanent if they creased much deeper. “I’m buying one.”

Hidan blinked. “I thought you hate spending money.”

“I do.”

He loathed spending money on the unnecessary. However, the only way he was surviving this day was with a caffeinated consciousness and at the moment, his apartment was _void_ of coffee. Hence, the coffee was necessary. Desperate times called for desperate measures, which was proven by Kakuzu preparing to walk a solid 2 miles at 8:30 in the morning after googling ‘cheap coffee shops near me’.

Hidan seemed to think for a moment, before grabbing a jacket from the hook next to him. “Alriiiight, I’m coming with you.”

Maybe the lack of sleep and lack of caffeine were starting to play tricks on Kakuzu’s sanity. “Why?” he asked dubiously.

Hidan shrugged. “Roadtrip, fucking duh."

“I’m walking,” Kakuzu raised an eyebrow. “Besides, I’m not buying you anything.”

“Aw why fucking not? Kuzu, fucking please?”

“Don’t beg, it’s annoying,” Kakuzu grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly as he watched Hidan also pocket his set of keys, clearly getting ready to come with him.

“You’re annoying,” Hidan shot back. “Fucking buy me a coffee too.”

“You don’t even drink coffee,” Kakuzu said, already resigned to the fact of Hidan tagging along after all.

“How bad can it be?”

Kakuzu just sighed. He was really getting desperate for his caffeine. “Doesn’t matter if you come or not, I’m not buying you anything.”

“Fuck off."

Hidan followed him to the coffee shop anyway.  


 

\---

  


The bell tinged over their heads as Kakuzu pushed the door open, the ultra-sweet waft of air almost like a punch to Hidan’s nose as he followed Kakuzu inside. It didn’t seem like the kind of place Hidan would've stayed at on his own.

"What the fuck," Hidan murmured, actually considering going back outside to wait instead.

Three of the cafe’s four tables were already seized by college kids tapping mechanically and dead-eyed at their laptops; only a single one flicked his gaze away from his screen when Hidan and Kakuzu passed his table to reach the immaculately chipper barista behind the counter.

"Hi, and welcome to Nin’s, what can I get you?" she greeted them brightly before either of them could say anything.

Her handwritten name tag read ineligible to Hidan's eyes. First letter looked vaguely like an 'M', but that was about it: Hidan stared at the tag until his vision watered, and then to his disappointment he realized her and Kakuzu were already at the end of processing his order. He clicked his tongue as Kakuzu dumped a mound of coins into his palm.

However.

Just before he set the money down, Kakuzu's hand stalled and a crease appeared between his eyebrows as he looked at the numbers on the screen.

“It’s wrong.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

"The total should be three-fifty. Not four-thirty."

"That's-" The barista's carefully practiced smile faltered. "The prices have gone up, I'm sorry, sir."

Hidan could practically see a tick appear in Kakuzu's jaw from where he was standing. “This is bullshit.”

Oh, this was gonna get interesting. It was at times like this that Hidan was reminded of exactly how much Kakuzu liked his money; any chance to argue a bit of it back was an excellent chance in Kakuzu’s eyes.

But to Hidan’s disappointment, the argument never came. After a few moments of stony-faced staring, Kakuzu just scoffed dryly and tipped another 80 cents onto the plastic plaque thing in the middle of the smooth counter. And then to top it off, he merely turned and started towards a small door across the room.

Kakuzu, not arguing over prices for once. He must really need that caffeine.

Hidan raised an eyebrow. “Where the fuck’re you going?"

“Bathroom,” came a gruff reply. Hidan and the almost-nameless-worker-M watched him stomp off. Almost-nameless-worker-M let out the tiniest of sighs before turning her attention to Hidan.

"Anything for you?" She seemed resigned to Kakuzu’s behavior, smile already fixed back to its former pristine state; it gave Hidan the oddest pang of sympathy for just a moment and he shook his head, leaving her to fiddle with Kakuzu’s order.

He let his eyes roam over the coffee shop’s interior. The small room was decorated a bit more artsily than Hidan would have preferred, but it wasn’t too bad either; in addition to the four tables and the chalkboard wall behind the counter decorated with the daily specials, there was a glass display case stocked with a few appetizing cakes and salads. A tiny sign with prices and a request of _Ask for seasoning_!  Was scrawled across it in bright letters.

Hidan rapped his knuckles on the counter in thought; almost-nameless-worker-M shot him a sideways glance from behind the machine, and that’s when an idea formed in Hidan’s brain. It probably wasn’t a _good_ idea and it would certainly have some bad fucking consequences. But, let’s be totally fucking honest, it would be hilarious, and that’s all that he really wanted.

“Hey lady,” Hidan started and the worker’s expression dipped momentarily at the addressal. “Can I have some salt?”

She blinked. “I- salt?”

“Yeah, salt.” Hidan nodded meaningfully at the basket of paper packets. “Please?” he added with a raised eyebrow when she failed to answer. Dumbfounded, she handed him the basket.

“Of course. Anything else?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

She watched him scoop a whole handful of packets out, still fiddling with the machine until curiosity obviously got the better of her. “Can I ask what you plan to do with that salt?”

“I’m going to pour it that fucking coffee you’re making right now.”

A spark of genuine interest lit up the lifeless eyes of the underpaid barista. “Are you really?” Her tone may have been patronizing, but Hidan could recognize actual curiosity when he saw it. “And what if I said I can’t allow that?”

“What if I said I’ll fucking tip you?” Hidan offered with a cock of an eyebrow.

To Hidan’s inner delight, she didn’t even flinch at the swear. Her smile was now more thoughtful and calculating than the thing she had on plastered earlier, and Hidan could just barely see her drag a fingernail down the coffee machine’s metal surface in thought.

Come on, Hidan thought.

Come on.

Come the fuck on.

Come-

The nail stopped.

“I’d say this coffee is done and I’m leaving it on this counter right here until it’s picked up,” almost-nameless-worker-M said sweetly and picked the paper cup off the machine, adding in a final swish of frothy milk before placing it in front of Hidan. “You can look after your friend’s coffee until he comes back, can’t you?” She added a knowing look.

This lady was fucking great, Hidan grinned broadly as he tore open 6 packets of table salt and stirred them into Kakuzu’s coffee while she pretended not to notice.

Somehow, miraculously, he finished just before Kakuzu stomped back, expression grumpier than ever.

‘The fuck did you do in there?” Hidan commented. “Did you fall in or something?”

“Shut it,” Kakuzu grunted, picking up his coffee. He raised an eyebrow at Hidan as he blew on his drink. “What?”

“Nothing!” Hidan shook his head, the epitome of innocence itself.

Kakuzu scoffed and rolled his eyes; Hidan shot a quick glance to Almost-nameless-worker-M who seemed just as invested in seeing the outcome as he was.

C’mon, Kuzu.

Kakuzu was still blowing on his coffee.

C'mon Kuzu-

His babysitter 'tsk’ed quietly as one of his stray hairs landed in the coffee, leaving him to pick it out of the ruined foam; an annoyed look flitted over his face before he tucked the now-clean hair back behind his ear.

Jashin fucking damn it, would Kakuzu just _drink_ his fucking-

Kakuzu drank his coffee.

The entire cafe seemed to hold its breath as Kakuzu’s sip lasted longer than seemed humanly possible. For a moment, nothing happened and Hidan’s excitement deflated.

But then, Kakuzu’s eyes bulged and everyone in the coffee shop was treated to the sight of the teenager spitting salty coffee all over the nearest table, grabbing frantically for napkins as he doubled over coughing.

It was more beautiful than Hidan could have ever imagined.

“Fucking thanks, lady!”

“HIDAN.”

Hidan, true to his word for once in his life, slipped a handful of furled bills into the cafe’s glossy tip jar, right before he bolted out the door as fast as his skinny legs could take him.


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, so maybe Kakuzu had gotten bored during the movie. He hadn’t expected Hidan to get bored, too, and start looking around just as Kakuzu was pencilling in the last of his “stitches”.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Kakuzu just shrugged, not exactly sure how to explain his sudden nostalgia for his teenage accessories. 

Hidan stared at him intently. “Looks stupid,” he said after a terse silence, and turned back to watch something on screen explode. 

If Kakuzu had learned anything about Hidan in the past 2 months, it was how to tell when Hidan was lying.   
  


\----

 

Hidan opened the door after a single knock. “Mom’s just cleaned the fucking floors, c’mon.” And then, instead of letting Kakuzu in like usual, Hidan instead pushed them out into the hallway and slammed the door behind him.

“What-” Kakuzu cut himself off as Hidan, completely ignoring him, made a beeline straight to Kakuzu’s apartment door and stood there with an expectant face.

When Kakuzu did nothing, Hidan raised his eyebrows. “Hurry up and open the fucking door? I’ll be as old as you once you finally get here, asshole.” He rattled the locked handle.

Kakuzu was confused. Nevertheless, he complied and fished his keys out, nudging Hidan out of the way to unlock the door. He was just glad nobody was home to witness Hidan push his way inside, barely stopping to pull his shoes off before he was already in the living room and landing cross-legged on the couch. Impatient. 

Kakuzu crossed his arms as he stared down at the kid on the sofa. “Hidan, explain,” he ordered. Geez, now he actually felt like his mother.

Hidan had already managed to get his phone out and Kakuzu was fairly sure he was being photographed right now. “Mom just cleaned, I fucking told you. So, obviously, we’re hanging out in this dump tonight.”

“Exactly what part of your thought process determined this choice ‘obvious’,” Kakuzu narrowed his eyes. Hidan shrugged.

“Gotta stay fucking somewhere, right?”

Kakuzu pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Hidan. You can’t just barge into somebody else’s house and expect to be welcomed.”

“You do it all the fucking time.”

“I get paid for it,” Kakuzu pointed out. 

Hidan snorted and unfolded his legs. “Whatever. Let’s fucking do something now, this is boring.”

Goddamn unbelievable. 

Kakuzu sighed and stalked off to fetch a deck of cards.

 

After six rounds that ended up in Hidan punting the entire stack all over the carpet and calling Kakuzu a “greedy bastard cheating dick”, Hidan cleaned up approximately 6 cards and then stormed off to Kakuzu’s bathroom to fume over his losses, leaving Kakuzu to roll his eyes and push the cards to the side to deal with later. Instead, he got out the sheaf of homework he had planned to fill out at Hidan’s; but plans change and Kakuzu felt like he might as well use the 10 or so minutes of quiet he had been given.

10 or so minutes proved to be an flawless assessment. Just like so many times before, Kakuzu was about halfway through his assignments when Hidan emerged from his hiding spot to shuffle around aimlessly, silently trying to get Kakuzu’s focus on him instead. Kakuzu rolled his eyes and ignored him for the time being.

Four times orbiting around the apartment seemed to be enough for Hidan: all of a sudden Kakuzu heard the  _ thump  _ of a short body sitting down and the telltale creak of the living room cupboard doors.

“Kakuzu, I’m going through your fucking stuff,” Hidan yelled, no doubt already elbows-deep in Kakuzu’s winter clothes.

“Leftside box isn’t mine, that one is off limits,” he called back. He heard Hidan snort. Something told Kakuzu he should be a bit more concerned about Hidan of all people leafing through his things.

But, like. Eh. He had homework. What’s the worst Hidan could do, pour glue on more of Kakuzu’s stuff? Nothing that weird should have been stashed there, he was fine.

Besides, Hidan already stumbled into view only minutes later, laden with questions.

 

“The hell is this?” Kakuzu looked up from his book to see Hidan dangling an old gaming controller by its wire. He hadn’t seen that thing in months - no idea where Hidan had dug it out from. “It looks like a brick.”

“It’s a controller,” Kakuzu said, motioning for Hidan to hand it over. Hidan ignored him.

“Well,  _ duh _ it’s a fucking controller. What kind is it?”

“An old one.” What was he, google? 

“You got any games for this thing?”

“Somewhere,” Kakuzu mused after a short pause. Probably nestled in whatever unknown corner of the apartment where Hidan had found the controller.

“C’mon, let’s fuckin’ play something.” Hidan jumped up next to Kakuzu without waiting for an answer. Kakuzu side-eyed him, before moving over just enough to avoid getting a squishing accusation from the small bastard. Hidan didn’t seem to notice, because Kakuzu immediately found his side once again uncomfortably warm from Hidan sitting too close.  _ No  _ personal boundaries on this kid.

“How do you expect to play if you don’t have a game for it?” Kakuzu sighed. As if on cue, Hidan pulled an old game cartridge Kakuzu recognized as his own out of his pocket. Kakuzu narrowed his eyes. “I thought you couldn’t find any games.”

“Never said that,” Hidan smirked and switched on the tv screen, remote suddenly, mysteriously in his hand. Kakuzu furrowed his brows. He didn’t remember teaching Hidan how the tv worked.

 

\----   
  


It took nearly 20 minutes to actually get the game up and running, mostly because Kakuzu refused to leave the couch himself; Hidan was left swearing angrily as he tried his best at connecting all the appropriate wires, because even though he had figured out how the screen worked, the console itself was a different matter. Kakuzu offered chaste advice by pointing at the appropriate sockets. Hidan flipped him off for it.

Eventually, though, he did get it. Pictures from the loudly bleeping game filled the screen and Hidan scrambled back onto the couch, gripping the controller with unfiltered glee.

“Hidden Village Secret Mission,” Hidan read off, doing his best to navigate the menu with the unfamiliar controller. “The fuck’s this game even about?”

Kakuzu shrugged unhelpfully. He was pretty sure it was a fighting game, but it had been years since he last played it, maybe his memory was- 

Oh, no, nevermind. This was definitely a fighting game, Kakuzu remembered now as he watched Hidan launch his character of choice across the screen by accidentally pressing a wrong button. The character crashed into a tree and was immediately mauled by a mysterious creature that dropped from the canopy.

“W-” Hidan watched the bright “game over” sign flash over the screen. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT.”

“Monkey,” Kakuzu replied dryly. Those things had been a real pain in Kakuzu's ass when he had been playing; in addition to your actual enemies, you were occasionally pelted with angry local wildlife, just to make things harder. It had taken him months to figure out he could turn the wildlife mode off if he wanted.

Not like he was going to tell Hidan about it.

Meanwhile, Hidan had managed to restart, the character crawling awkwardly along the screen. Progress, Kakuzu mused as Hidan tried to figure out the controls.

With every moment that passed, more memories of the game came flooding back, like the tv screen was feeding memoirs directly into his brain. It had been a hard game, Kakuzu remembered that much, but-

Hidan was just….terrible at it.

Kakuzu watched the character die four more times before the brat reached his first actual opponent, and every single time was accompanied with a screech of protest that threatened to take Kakuzu’s hearing had he been sitting any closer. It was painful to watch and more painful to listen to.

This was stupid. 

Kakuzu was very tempted to just take the controls from him and beat the level  himself.

“Left, down, down, punch, up,” he muttered under his breath, brain feeding him familiar combo codes like he’d been playing this only yesterday. The character’s health bar kept steadily decreasing.

Hidan growled, mashing the buttons like his actual life depended on it. The wrong buttons, to Kakuzu’s chagrin.  “What?”

Kakuzu glared at him. “Play the damn game, Hidan.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” 

Hidan hammered at the controller with concerning strength; he looked about three losses away from snapping the thing in half, or maybe throwing it through the tv instead, Kakuzu wasn't sure. He eyed it suspiciously.

"If you break it, you're buying me a new one,” Kakuzu growled, feeling a headache coming on.

"You can afford a new one," Hidan grumbled. Still, his grip on the poor controller loosened from splintering to just uncomfortably snug. Kakuzu swore he could hear plastic creaking in relief.

If only getting rid of the iron handhold would also make Hidan a better player. Unfortunately...

It was at least three more failed rounds before Kakuzu lost count of Hidan's deaths and he closed his eyes instead of trying to count again.

Watching Hidan play badly was exhausting. Listening to Hidan scream every single time he pressed a wrong button was even more exhausting.

Kakuzu couldn't even muster the damn strength to get off the couch and go get the homework he should have been doing. He just felt that damn exhausted. Exhausted enough actually be a bit sleepy.

He was sure he could...rest his eyes for a few moments. He was sitting upright, and plus, Hidan’s protesting squirming shook the couch every single time he died; there was no way he could fall asleep like this, Kakuzu reassured himself, even as he felt himself yawn. 

He could close his eyes. Just for a tiny bit. Just long enough to stop them being so heavy.

He could do this without falling asleep.

A few minutes was all he needed.

 

\----

 

When Kakuzu woke up, there was a blanket on him. For a moment, confusion flooded his groggy brain: he couldn’t remember getting a blanket. Or really falling asleep in that case.

Maybe it had been either of his parents, coming home to him sleeping on the couch, with Hidan still playing that-

Kakuzu jolted upright, completely awake now. 

Hidan. 

Hidan wasn't on the couch anymore.

Kakuzu moved to rip the blanket off, when something caught his eye. On his hand, somebody had scribbled a few upside-down words in what looked like black sharpie; Kakuzu twisted his arm around the best he could to read the writing, messy and a bit spiderwebbing against the dark skin. Definitely sharpie. Or maybe marker, Kakuzu considered as the smell of ink reached his nose. 

_ my mom’s home now. c you 2morrow kuzu _

And underneath it, on his forearm in way larger letters:

_ YOU SNORE ASSHOLE _

Kakuzu snorted despite himself. 

Wait, that would mean Hidan was the one who had given him a blanket. That was an...odd thought, and Kakuzu dismissed it quick.

Instead, he got off the warm couch and stretched his sore neck and wandered through the empty apartment, wondering, how on earth Hidan had managed to do everything without waking Kakuzu up. Sneaky little shit, Kakuzu thought, mouth suspiciously close to a smile.   
  


It wasn’t until later that Kakuzu discovered Hidan had raided the fridge.


	4. Chapter 4

 “Hidan, we need to-” Kakuzu stopped dead in his tracks as he rounded the corner. “What happened to your hair?”

 “‘Kuzu!” Hidan beamed at his babysitter and ran a hand over his slicked-back hair, obviously proud of it. “Looks cool, huh?”

 “I can smell the gel from here,” Kakuzu wrinkled his nose. Hidan had plastered down everything that used to float freely earlier, creating a shiny helmet out of cheap hair product. It looked strange with his childish face: maybe if he were a bit older-

 Kakuzu shook his head to clear it. “Your mother left a shopping list.”

 Hidan had gone back to smoothing his hair in the mirror. “Yeah, she does that sometimes.”

 “Does she expect us go to the store or something?” Kakuzu looked over the slip of paper again, counting together over 20 items listed in the messy but readable handwriting.

 “I was supposed to go earlier, but I fucking forgot,” Hidan commented offhandedly, now working on unnecessarily gelling down his eyebrows. “She told me to go before you got here, because she didn’t want to fucking bother you.”

 “Great job you did,” Kakuzu snorted.

 “Whatever, asshole.” Hidan started humming to himself as he plastered another layer of gel onto his soaked eyebrows. Kakuzu crossed his arms and watched him.

 “Is that supposed to be ironic?” he finally asked when Hidan tilted his head to examine the different angles. “Are you done?”

 “I can’t fucking tell anymore.”

“Then let’s go.”

Hidan sprang to his feet and fingergunned at himself in the mirror one last time before rounding on Kakuzu. “Buy me some chips and I’ll tell you where mom left the fucking money.”

\------

Hidan would be coming by after he got home, his mother had warned him earlier. So Kakuzu wasn’t that surprised when the doorbell started ringing (repeatedly), like the person behind it had accidentally glued their finger to the buzzer and was now trying to yank it free with growing desperation.

He was just a tiny bit more surprised when he opened the door to have a short-ish blur of Hidan fly past him so fast, Kakuzu didn’t even really have time to react until he heard his bedroom door swing and the loud _whump_ of somebody landing heavily on his poor mattress.

“Kuzu, bring me some fucking snacks!” came a muffled yell from his bedroom where Hidan had undoubtedly crashed; Kakuzu closed his eyes and rubbed them tiredly.

“Christ,” he sighed, closing the front door.

Hidan ignored him when he joined the bedroom, sprawled face-down over the entirety of Kakuzu’s duvet like it was his. Annoying. At least he had had the decency to take his shoes off.

“You know, I’m very sure when my parents said ‘make yourself at home’, they didn’t mean it like _this_ ,” Kakuzu said, gently kicking the foot dangling over the bed’s edge. “Move.”

Hidan grumbled but rolled over just enough to make room for Kakuzu. “Your bed’s a lot fucking comfier than mine, you know that,” he said as Kakuzu sat down.

Kakuzu did know that. Months of babysitting had meant them occasionally sitting on Hidan’s bed for whatever purpose, and Kakuzu was pretty sure at least 80% of any kind of back-pains he had were because of Hidan’s terrible mattress. Even the floor was better, and that was saying something.

“I’m surprised you’re still alive with that thing,” Kakuzu agreed and Hidan snorted. Half of Kakuzu was just a miniscule bit concerned about how Hidan was actually breathing with his face stuffed into the blanket like that; the rest of him decided that it didn’t matter that much, and concerned itself with thinking up possible punishments if Hidan ended up slobbering on his things right now.

"Fuck, I wish mom would buy me a better one already,” Hidan whined, interrupting Kakuzu’s suspiciously vivid daydream of putting glue in the tub of Hidan’s terrible hair gel, and then watching him apply an amount large enough to drown a mouse.

“Don’t be a baby. Just sleep on the floor if it’s that bad.”

“On the f-” Hidan took a moment to de-stuff his face with blanket to stare at Kakuzu. “How about I steal your mattress instead? I’ll break in and leave you my shitty one.”

An impossible threat, _if_ it were from anyone except Hidan. Kakuzu’s eyes narrowed at the idea of coming home to find his bed gone and a lumpy, jumped-on, uncomfortable kids’ mattress in its stead. “You do that, I'm burning your dinner for the next month.“

Hidan cocked an eyebrow. “You’d burn a fucking microwave dinner. How?”

“I’ll let you cook it.”

Hidan rolled back over and screamed his frustration into the pillow.

 

\----

 

“Don’t forget, Hidan’s expecting you over at 6pm,” Kakuzu’s mother called from the couch, not even half a minute after Kakuzu got home. He hadn’t even gotten his boots off yet.

“I can’t tonight, I’m going to Kisame’s house.”

He heard the creak of the sofa cushions as his mother turned, presumably to look at him. “To do what?”

“Tutor him.” Well, tutoring followed by a small get-together with the usual gang, that may or may not end up with everyone there sporting various degrees of sobriety. But his mother didn’t need to know that.

“You can do that another time, tonight you have to stay with Hidan.”

“I can’t, actually, the test is tomorrow.”

“And this Kisame wants to start studying _today_?”

“Apparently.”

Kakuzu heard his mother scoff, and not in a friendly way.

“I’m sure someone else could tutor him if you asked,” she tried again after a short pause, and Kakuzu had to sigh. God, she was _insistent_ today.

“Mom.”

She was silent for a long moment and Kakuzu allowed himself to think the topic was over. And suddenly: “Then how about you take Hidan with you?”

The boot slipped from Kakuzu’s hands and he looked up in surprise. “H-  Take Hidan with me?”

“Why not! It’s not like he’s never seen you study.” She raised her eyebrows.

“That is not the point, why would I-” He was actually at a loss for words. As odd as their group was on social cues, Kakuzu was still pretty certain somebody bringing a kid they were supposed to be _babysitting_ was a bit too much, even for them. “People don’t normally do that.”

“I’m sure Kisame won’t mind,” his mother said. Kakuzu groaned.

The worst part was that Kisame probably _wouldn’t_ mind.

“Why not take him, he’ll need another babysitter otherwise?”

“I’m not doing that,” he growled, grabbing his bag and heading towards his room. “I’m not taking Hidan to Kisame’s with me.”

For god’s sake, he’d rather cancel the tutoring tonight.

“Kakuzu-” his mother tried again.

“No,” he said decisively, and closed his door with a satisfying _bang,_ and flung himself face-forward onto his bed with a groan.

He lay flat on his face for a solid minute before getting his phone out, and pulling up Kisame’s number.

 

**To: Kisame**

Cant come tonight. Babysitting.

 

**From: Kisame**

tht sucks man

how olds the kid?

 

Kakuzu stared at his phone. How old _was_ Hidan?

 

**To: Kisame**

13

 

Should be 13, Kakuzu thought, running a calendar though his mind. Shit, had Kakuzu missed his birthday?

 

**From: Kisame**

oh thats fine just bring it

my cousins here too they can hang opt

*out

 

What. Kakuzu blinked and reread the message in confusion. This really wasn’t an answer he had been expecting.

 

**To: Kisame**

You sure?

 

**From: Kisame**

yeah sure dude

cousin is 12

theyll have stuff to do then

maybe lol

 

Hm. Well, if another kid Hidan’s age was there already, then maybe it actually wouldn’t be that bad. Wouldn’t have to deal with Hidan pretending not to be clingy when he got bored. Ooh. Maybe Kakuzu could convince him to pick a fight with Itachi, if he’s there.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. His mother was never going to let him hear the end of this.

Well, whatever. He could get paid for _both_ his jobs tonight. That outweighed any condescending grievances his mother might make.

Besides: free beer. Kakuzu did like those odds very much.

Pursing his lips, he opened up Hidan’s name in his contacts.


	5. Chapter 5

For some reason, there were more already people present at Kisame's house than Kakuzu had been expecting. 

The Uchiha he could understand; him and Kisame were becoming more and more inseparable as time went on, and it was more common than not to see Itachi quietly perched on some various piece of Kisame’s furniture, or in some becoming-disturbingly-frequent cases, Kisame himself.

Kakuzu could also understand the preteen-looking blond kid sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor that Kisame introduced as his cousin, Deidara. Not actually quite cousins, apparently, according to Kisame, but it was easier to say “cousins”, instead of “vaguely related through some marriage on my mom’s side”.

Kakuzu could  _ maybe _ also understand Zetsu lounging on Kisame’s couch like they owned it, nodding a greeting to the newcomers, instead of swallowing their mouthful of chips to say “hi”.

He could not understand what Pein and Konan were already doing here. The duo had occupied one of Kisame’s armchairs in a disgusting display of PDA and seemed to be in a weird contest of attaching tiny post-it notes to each other’s piercings, neither of them giving up their deadpan expressions.

Behind him, Hidan was staring at all of them.

Kakuzu sighed. It wasn’t like he could blame him; his friends group -plus Deidara- didn’t exactly have the tamest of appearances. Between them all, there was enough hair dye to supply a salon for a day or two. “Alright. Kisame, why are there so many people here?”

“Zetsu’s birthday?” Kakuzu narrowed his eyes at the way Kisame drew it out like a question and Zetsu very noticeably stopped chewing on the couch. 

“No it’s not.”

“It is,” Konan commented from the armchair, managing to stick a slip of neon-green on one of Pein’s many earrings and accidentally loosening the one from her own bottom lip by accident.

“It really isn’t,” Zetsu said.

Kisame shrugged. “Maybe.” ( _ “It’s not.” _ ) “I thought it’s about time for a party anyway. Sasori and Tobi are still missing, but they should be here soon.”

For fuck’s sake. “Were you even planning to study tonight?” 

“Hm. Maybe?” Kisame said, like that explained everything, letting out a bark of laughter at Kakuzu’s eyeroll. “Don’t worry, dude, ‘tachi’s teaching me stuff.”

“I’m sure he is,” Kakuzu said, raising an eyebrow. Kisame’s ears went red and he tried clearing his throat before waving an awkward introductory hand at the group lazing in the living room.

“Hidan, everyone. Everyone, Hidan,” he said, nape still suspiciously pink. Hidan nodded jerkily. Zetsu nodded politely. Pein and Konan yelled a “Hey”, trying not to move their faces too much. Deidara stared boredly from the floor. Itachi was nowhere to be seen.

Kisame had already moved into the adjoining kitchen, voice a bit muffled as he dug through a cabinet. “You drinking tonight?”

Kakuzu shook his head as the followed their host, already having decided against it. He doubted Hidan would actually  _ tell _ , but- no. Drinking in front of Hidan would give the brat the worst blackmail material possible.

“I am,” Hidan piped up hopefully from his side. Kisame raised an eyebrow.

“You are absolutely fucking not,” Kakuzu growled. Hidan rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded like “asshole”.

Kakuzu really didn't feel like being responsible for a 13-year old getting his hands on alcohol while he was supposed to be supervising. 

Kakuzu’s eyes swept over the room. “If anyone here gives this dumbass beer, I am telling Orochimaru you want to ‘hang out’ next Friday, “ he said loudly. A collective shudder went through everyone in sight and before he could say anything else, all gazes were pointedly ignoring Hidan.

Hm. That worked,

Still-grumbling Hidan followed him into the room, plopping down onto the floor near Kisame’s relative (Deidara, was it?) and tugging on one of Kakuzu’s legs until Kakuzu followed suit. 

Nothing really changed with them arriving, Kakuzu noticed. Pein and Konan continued their weird sticky-note ritual, Deidara still stared at his phone, and Kisame still paced from room to room - either boredom or looking for Itachi, Kakuzu couldn’t tell. The only one who gave them any kind of attention was Zetsu, staring at Hidan with a bored expression, still chewing their chips.

Stared at Hidan too long, apparently.

“What,” Hidan snapped.

Zetsu plain out refused to swallow their chips. “Absolutely goddamn nothing,” they said, tone indicating that it was, in fact, goddamn something. In reality, though, it probably  _ was _ nothing. 

Hidan’s brow wrinkled and he opened his mouth to no doubt turn the conversation nasty, and the thought of tape crossed Kakuzu’s mind.

_ Ding-dong. _

Saved by the bell, literally. Kakuzu sighed and closed his eyes. 

Somebody opened the front door -presumably Itachi, who had been pretty much missing until this point- and a loud cheer was heard before everybody looked up to witness an exhausted-looking teen with red hair peeking from under his hoodie being practically dragged in behind a guy bouncing from excitement.

“Sasori, you actually made it!” Kisame whooped and appeared from the kitchen to bump knuckles with his friends, although Tobi ignored the offered hand and went straight for a one-armed hug.

“Somebody please make Tobi shut up, for the love of god,” Sasori answered instead of a greeting, trying to detangle his sleeve from the excited boy’s iron grip.

“Alright, Tobi, let the poor guy go,” Kisame chuckled, and then wheezed as Tobi relinquished his hold on the sleeve and used both arms to trap his host in a bruising hug. Behind him, Sasori used his new-found moment of freedom to make a beeline straight for the kitchen.

Deidara, who had been having a silent but intense staring match with Hidan until now, suddenly perked up when Sasori reappeared with a glass of water. “Danna!”

Kakuzu nearly raised an eyebrow at that. Sasori and Deidara were about the last people he expected to know each other.

“Hey, brat.” Sasori ruffled the preteen’s hair as he passed him, nodding at Hidan after an obvious beat of suspicion.”New kid.”

“It’s Hidan.” Kakuzu snorted at Hidan’s expression.

“Uh-huh,” Sasori nodded, downing his water as he made his way to the couch.

Deidara squinted as he watched him go. “Did you repaint your leg? Looks different, yeah.”

Half the room craned their heads to see what Deidara was talking about; Sasori, now usurping a portion of the couch from under Zetsu’s feet, struck a lazy pose to show off his fancy prosthetic leg, carved to look eerily like a ball-jointed doll’s. Bright red kanji lettering snaked down it, the other end disappearing under his shorts. Deidara was right - the paint did look brighter than when Kakuzu last saw it.

“I did,” Sasori answered finally, lowering his leg. “Maybe I’ll add a scorpion later.”

“Edgy. What’s it say?” Zetsu, just mildly salty about losing their lounging space, dropped their feet into Sasori’s lap and nudged the leg in question with a heel.

Sasori answered with a string of fancy Japanese; Kakuzu shrugged when Hidan shot him a questioning look. He had no idea what that meant, and most of the others looked just as knowledgeable as he did.

Deidara, however, groaned loudly. “It’s not!” 

Sasori sent him a sharp look. “It obviously is. Art is eternal, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Oh. That’s how they knew each other. Kakuzu pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Deidara turned his back to Kakuzu and Hidan to point a demanding finger at the prosthetic. “Your leg is art to you, right? You can’t say it’s eternal if you have to repaint it, yeah.” 

Sasori, clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Deidara, your idea of art is a goddamn Bombsquad explosion.”

“They’re well-rendered!”

“You play Bombsquad?” Hidan suddenly interrupted the growing argument to the surprise of everyone.

Sasori gestured his chin at his tiny friend. “ _ He  _ does. I wouldn’t go near that abmismal excuse of a game even if somebody paid me.”

“Blondie, you play  Bombsquad ?”

Deidara’s face lit up like a christmas tree. “Sure I do, yeah!”

Sasori rolled his eyes and sunk into the sofa. “Great, now there’s another one.” For once, Kakuzu agreed with him.

Deidara, however, wasn’t listening to his older friend anymore. He and Hidan seemed to have finally found some common ground. “You know the part with the grenade launcher and the goat, and the guy-”

“The guy gets fucking splattered by the helicopter instead? That part’s fucking  _ awesome _ ,” Hidan finished, eyes suddenly shining with a worrying amount of unfiltered glee. “Or the guy with 600 knives?”

Deidara looked like he was about vibrate with excitement. “It took me forever to beat him, yeah!”

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Zetsu suddenly interjected, and the two young broke from their sudden conversation to stare at Zetsu like they had just noticed the older teen’s existence for the first time.

“Bombsquad,” Deidara blinked, eyeing Zetsu like the answer should have been obvious without any further clarification.

“Fuck, I love Bombsquad. Nowhere near Jashin, obviously, but it’s not fucking bad,” Hidan said dreamily, scratching his chin.

Deidara decided to put his family ties to good use and he stretched back to shout, “Kisame, you got Bombsquad?” in the kitchen’s general direction.

There was a short pause.

_ “Uh, maybe? Try the red box under the tv,” _   Kisame’s voice yelled back suspiciously muffled, not from the kitchen at all. Everybody over the age of thirteen narrowed their eyes towards the sound - too coincidentally,  the last place where anyone had seen Itachi Uchiha silently glide away to.

Hidan was somehow up before Deidara. “C’mon,” he kicked the carpet impatiently, barely waiting for Deidara to follow as he sprinted towards where he thought the tv was; Deidara ended up yelling him into another room.

As soon as the thunder of footsteps died away, Kisame’s sheepish face slowly emerged from behind a door to a round of disapproving stares. “Are they gone?”

Jesus christ.

“Was it necessary to do that  _ now?”  _ The effect of Pein’s disappointed tone was cut down by all the sticky notes plastered on his face. That, however, did nothing to stop the others from narrowing their eyes when Kisame shrugged instead of an answer.

Cover blown, Itachi pushed past Kisame, face betraying absolutely no ounce of shame as he stared all of them down. Even with one side of his shirt noticeably rumpled. God, the famous Uchiha poker face was no joke, Kakuzu mused as Itachi nodded politely to everyone.  “Drinks, anybody?”

Five hands shot up simultaneously and Kakuzu snorted. By the way this evening was starting, he was almost definitely going to regret abstaining from a nice beer.

Itachi did that eerie thing he did instead of smiling. and disappeared into the kitchen.   
  


\---

They wasted about an hour before Hidan and Deidara emerged again, Hidan looking a particularly annoyed shade of pissed off.

“Can’t believe this asshole doesn't have Jashin,” Hidan snapped to nobody in particular, grabbing and pouring soda into a random mug he picked off the table. “I mean, how the fuck can you have  _ Farming Simulator _ , but not Jashin?”

Kisame shot a sideways glance towards Kakuzu. “What’s-” 

“Do  _ not _ ask.” Kakuzu closed his eyes for a long moment, before cracking them open again out of curiosity. “You have Farming Simulator?”

“Long story. Kid, that mug had coffee in it earlier.” The last part was directed at Hidan, who had just drained the entire mug and pulled a face.

“Would explain why this tastes so fucking bad,” Hidan shot back.

Deidara sidled over to his relative, looking smug. “He’s just mad that I beat him at Mario Kart, yeah.” 

“Because you fucking  _ cheated!” _

“Okay, okay, enough you two,” Kisame tried playing peacemaker, seeing Hidan aim the mug directly at Deidara’s head. Scoffing, Hidan set the potential projectile back down and rolled his eyes when Kakuzu gave him a stale look.

“Rematch, yeah?” Deidara offered as soon as he was done giggling. Hidan shook his head and poured himself another mugful of soda. 

“Nah, maybe next time. C’mon, let's do something interesting.” 

Deidara hummed and leaned back a bit. “Like what?”

Hidan shrugged. “I dunno. ‘Kuzu, entertain me.”

Kakuzu raised an eyebrow as Hidan dropped to the floor beside him like a sackful of lazy potatoes.  “What do you expect me to do?”

“You better fucking do  _ something,  _ asshole,” Hidan kicked at Kakuzu’s shins boredly.

The hell was he supposed to do, Kakuzu thought, kicking Hidan back. Well there was an option, but how PG-13 family friendly that might turn out, he wasn’t sure. 

“Kisame, if we’re doing the usual-” Kakuzu turned to look at their host, “-is your cousin going to play?”

Kisame snorted. “If Sasori’s playing, Deidara’s _ definitely  _ playing.” He then proceeded to get an elbow to his thigh by a mortified and tomato-red Deidara.

Ah, whatever, Kakuzu shrugged inwardly, ignoring the squabble in front of him. If Kisame deemed it okay for his relative to play, it was definitely okay by Kakuzu’s standards. Besides, this was  _ Hidan.  _ He could handle anything.

 

Maybe he was listening in, maybe he actually was reading their minds with his self-proclaimed god powers: whatever the case, Pein chose that exact moment to clear his throat and get everyone’s attention.

“Alright.” Pein clapped his hands together -near Konan’s ears- way louder than necessary and got swatted on the knee for it. “Everyone up for the usual?”

Over Tobi’s cheering, Kakuzu could barely hear Hidan demanding to know what “the usual” was. 

“Truth or dare, yeah!” Deidara said excitedly, apparently keeping himself from vibrating with only a very sizeable amount of willpower.

“Truth or dare?” Hidan scoffed loudly. “What the fuck is this, fifth grade?”

“Oh don’t worry, Hidan, you’ve never played it like us big kids have,” Konan interjected with a wolfish grin before Deidara could say something obviously nasty. Hidan frowned, but, mercifully, stayed quiet.

Everyone who had slid to the floor over the course of the evening, meaning most of them except Sasori and Tobi, now did their best to migrate more into a lopsided circle. Kakuzu chose a spot near the base of the couch with Sasori’s legs dangling down about a foot away. Hidan slid across the floor to join him, followed by Deidara after a beat of hesitation.

Konan did the honors of standing up from her new spot and shushing everyone dramatically, and then clearing her throat to talk. “Truth or dare. I assume everyone here’s played it?” Getting nods and scoffs from the two youngest, she continued, “Okay, this time, as well as playing the  _ normal _ version-” she sent a sharp look at Zetsu “-we have some ground rules. First off, no booze for the 12 year-olds.”

“Fuck  _ off _ , I’m not-”

“Secondly-” Konan continued loudly over Hidan. “Same goes for below-the-belt nudity. Actually, how about we do that for everyone? Top-offs are okay, especially if markers or glue guns are involved, but I want everything about everybody to stay inside your pants.”  She thought for a moment, then added, “Only exception is streaking.”

Kakuzu watched Sasori fight to keep a straight face at that; Itachi surprised everyone by snorting loudly.

“Yeah, Halloween,” Konan fingergunned at him with a smug look, before finishing off the additional rules. “And three: piercings will be done by either me or Pein, unless you guys want a repeat of last time.”

Four people, including Kakuzu himself, winced at the memory. On the other side of the circle, Zetsu wrinkled their nose and shivered; Tobi had the sense to look at least vaguely guilty.

“So.” Konan gestured at the circle vaguely. “Everyone agree? Anything to add?”

Kisame raised his hand. “I vote we don’t wax my legs this time.”

“Overruled. Anything else?” Everyone exchanged curious looks, but nobody spoke up. Konan shrugged. “Perfect,” she said and resumed her seat on top of Pein’s feet  _ (“Babe, ow, those pockets have zippers.”)  _ before pulling a bottle of Jack Daniels from somewhere out of Kakuzu’s line of sight and handing it to Zetsu.

“Tradition continues I see,” Zetsu said and cracked their finger-joints with relish, making Kakuzu cringe on the inside. Then, they spun the glass with a disgustingly sloshing noise, and the game began.

The first bottle of the night landed on Sasori, who grimaced and shifted a bit closer to the edge of the couch. “Since I’m sensing a long night ahead, truth.”

Zetsu grinned broadly. “Whiskey and soy sauce. How many different pairs of shorts did you try on tonight before going with those?”

“Oh for-” Sasori sighed and closed his eyes. “You know you could’ve just asked me outside the game.”

Zetsu scoffed and pushed the bottle towards him. “And you would’ve lied. How many pairs?”

From the corner of his eye, Kakuzu saw Hidan and Deidara watch in amazement as Sasori frowned and uncorked the bottle from the middle of the circle and drank a solid shot’s worth of drink straight from it. Zetsu wordlessly handed him a tiny bottle of even darker liquid that Sasori also opened with an exhausted expression, before downing about a quarter of it.

“Soy sauce first next time,” he groused, licking his lips with a shudder. 

“How-,” Zetsu pointed a dangerous finger, not one to get distracted from their quest for blackmail-worthy knowledge ”-many pairs. Of shorts.”

Hm. Everyone leaned closer. Even Kakuzu had to admit he was a little bit curious.  


Sasori sighed in defeat. “Six, alright? Six.”

Zetsu laughed and Konan toasted Sasori with her bottle of beer. “Art kid, through and through.”

“Your real-leg-to-fake-leg ratio perfect now?” Pein snorted.

“Damn right it is,” Sasori deadpanned and made a show of running a hand up both of them. There was a round of hollering and somebody wolf-whistled. “Thank you, thank you, your artistically ignorant praise means nothing to me. Who’s got the bottle? Oh, thanks-” he took the whiskey from Pein. 

To everyone’s surprise, Hidan was the one who spoke up before Sasori could spin. “Uh, question.”

“Ask,” Pein said, cocking his head to see him from behind the blue mass of Konan’s hair. 

“What the fuck is that thing you do before asking truth?”

“Drinking?”

“Ah, damn, we forgot to explain,” Kisame realized all of a sudden. So did everyone else too.

Konan hummed before directing her answer at the two youngest guests. “Well, we call it ‘truth or dare’, but realistically, we play it more like 'dare or dare’. You pick truth when you want to drink.” 

“Drink what, yeah?” Deidara asked, while Hidan glanced at the whisky bottle, looking suspiciously hopeful.

“Booze, soda, hot sauce, 80-percent-sugar cherry syrup, so on. Y’know, the usual stuff. You pick truth, person who asks picks what you drink.” Both Deidara and Hidan nodded understandingly. Konan shrugged before adding, “Anything goes, as long as it’s not poison.”

“Which is a wasted opportunity if you ask me,” Sasori muttered.

“Shut up and spin the bottle, god damn,” Zetsu snorted. Sasori smiled and complied.

“Kisame,” he drawled as the bottle clattered to a stop. “Truth or dare?”

Kisame grinned broadly. “Dare,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Kakuzu, along with some others, raised his eyebrows at that: accepting a dare from Sasori or Itachi usually ended up resulted with their victim plunging down the steepest cliff of social suicide.

Sasori tilted his head and thought for a moment. “Hm. Did I bring my stuff with me? I did? Okay, can somebody- thanks,” he said as Tobi handed him a small backpack Kakuzu had apparently missed earlier. “Since I had art class earlier, obviously, I have all the stuff we used today still in here,” he said, rifling through the bag.    


Now, Kisame was looking reasonably nervous. He looked even more so as Sasori produced something from the bag that looked like a slab of shaggy carpet material.

“Kisame, I dare you-” Sasori started, brandishing the fabric like an unfurled declaration of war “-to glue this stuff to the bottom of your feet.”

There was a beat of silence. 

Then Kisame snorted. “Are you serious? Carpet on m- you’re actually serious, aren’t you.”

Sasori smiled sweetly. 

“You want me to glue this entire doormat thing on my feet.”

“Not the  _ entire _ thing, just cut out two pieces for your big ol’ flippers,” Sasori said as he threw Kisame the fabric. “I’m sure you’ve got scissors here somewhere.”

Kisame was still staring at him in disbelief, like he’d never played with Sasori before. “You’re actually serious.”

“Yes, I dared you after all.” Sasori raised in expecting eyebrow. “Get moving.”

Honestly, he should have expected this by now, if you asked Kakuzu’s opinion. Sasori’s dares on Halloween had involved a bagful of feathers, and hair dye in addition to his “normal” dares

Kisame moved to stand up, before pausing. “I don’t think I have glue good enough for-” He was cut off by Sasori’s small glue gun landing square in his lap. Itachi gave him a sympathetic pat on a shoulder as Kisame stalked off to find scissors..

 

So now Kisame was sat in his spot with feather duster look-alikes for feet, silently cursing the world and especially Sasori, but doing nothing about it except spinning the bottle onto the next unfortunate soul. His bottle landed on the Pein-Konan combo, veering more towards Konan and the corners of her mouth twitched up.

“Alright, Kona-”   


“Dare.”

“Perfect. I dare you to, uh, stand on a chair holding an origami crane.” For reasons unclear to anyone else, Kisame reached for his phone and opened the camera.

Everyone was silent for a moment.

“That’s oddly… specific,” Sasori raised an eyebrow. “And not really dare-worthy.”

And he should know, Kisame was now stuck with carpet-feet for the unforseeable future because of Sasori.

Konan’s expression looked equal parts menacing and amused. “Kisame Hoshigaki-” she started slowly, popping the cap off of her bottle of beer, her eye contact with Kisame never breaking. Everyone could hear the swimmer swallow nervously. “Have you been catfishing rich guys with my pictures again?”

“Well.” Kisame had the decency to look sheepish. “I wasn't gonna use somebody underaged, and-”

“I want 50 percent of whatever you're getting,” Konan cut him off, and then downed a very notable amount of beer in a single go. Kisame looked hesitant. 

“That’s-”

Konan cocked an eyebrow.

“-fine, 50 percent is fine,“ Kisame grinned nervously, holding his hands up in surrender. 

Jesus christ, wasn’t this a great beginning for a game, Kakuzu thought as he watched Konan fold a paper crane at an impossible speed from a sheet of paper Pein handed and climb up on a chair somebody offered her. At least it was tamer than what had happened at halloween. Halloween had been fun, but- Kakuzu glanced over to Hidan, who seemed more than entertained to watch everyone bickering about optimal camera angles and lighting- it was more like an event to invite the brat to  _ outside _ of Kakuzu's responsible time as a babysitter.

 

Opposite Kakuzu, the newly-started deals about sugar daddies and catfishing continued. Konan set her chin on Kisame's shoulder to read the on-screen conversation better. “Ooh, he looks rich. See if you can make him buy me some clothes.”

“Like what?” Kisame hummed as Konan handed her phone over to show a picture. His eyebrows rose. “Oh, that’s actually kinda cool!” He scrolled down and his eyes widened. “And expens- 300 for a shirt?!”

Konan clicked her tongue like she usually did when trying to bite back laughter, and took her phone back. “Like I said, he looks rich. Make him buy it and you can borrow it sometime.”

“There's no goddamn way that is fitting me.” 

“Crop top,” she suggested with a shrug. “Your abs will thank you for it.”

Kisame still looked uncertain. “I don’t-”

“Itachi?” Konan interrupted him, pushing the phone over to Itachi listening quietly on the other side of Kisame. The Uchiha stared at the screen in silence. Then-

“Hn. Get the shirt.”

Kisame blinked in surprise. “Y-you sure?” 

Itachi nodded slowly, eyes slowly ungluing from the screen to trail up Kisame’s body. “I’m sure. Konan’s right, you know.”  And to everyone’s exasperation, the pair of them continued to just...stare at each other like everyone else in the room had suddenly disappeared.

Konan rolled her eyes, but stifled a smile at the two’s antics; she gave them a few more seconds before clapping her hands to get the room’s attention once again. Her bottle landed on Tobi, who squirmed in his seat like a kid pumped up on sugar. Probably a true statement.

“Tobi!” Konan barked, and Tobi straightened up immediately, face riddled with excitement. “Truth or dare?”

“Ooh, fun! Dare!”

Konan obviously had her dare pre-prepared, there was no way she could’ve come up with that in under a single second.  “Eat fish food like cereal,” she said, ignoring Kisame’s noise of distress at his pets’ snacks not being used for their target audience. Everyone else gave Konan perplexed looks as a bowlful of fishy pellets and milk was handed to Tobi after a few minutes of scrambling. Well, nearly everyone else.

Tobi didn’t even question it. 

Kakuzu wanted to look away, but, like apparently everybody else, found himself unable to. There was just something mesmerizing about a 17-year old eating actual fish food with a slowly-withering smile. 3 people were filming.

“What the fuck, yeah,” Deidara’s voice whined from somewhere as Tobi finished the bowl. Hidan looked too disgusted to even whine and Kakuzu had to agree with him on this one. A bite or a few he could handle watching; but, a whole bowl? The only thing that made it worse was the realization that Konan hadn’t actually told Tobi to finish the  _ entire  _ thing.

Still chewing his last spoonful with a concerningly crunchy noise, Tobi set down the empty bowl and spun the bottle.

As it turned out, Kakuzu’s mood could take an ever deeper nosedive as the bottle slowed to a halt, pointing its dented cap directly at Kakuzu.

Oh for-

Tobi swallowed before grinning at him brightly, and Kakuzu sighed. “Truth or dare, Kakuzu? It’ll be fine, Tobi promises!”

Doubtful.

Kakuzu weighed his options. Tobi was a wild card: choosing a dare from him was facing an equal shot of getting something childish but fun, or extraordinarily weird and unpleasant. Depending on Tobi’s mood.

However, picking truth was almost guaranteed to end in embarrassment. Not only did Tobi have zero qualms about asking mortifyingly personal questions, especially about one’s childhood, Tobi also had the uncanny ability to immediately tell if a person was lying to him or not.  Whether he decided to play along or not was not the point -  _ Tobi  _ would still know.

This entire game was like making deals with the devil.

“Dare.”

“Ooh, fun! Kakuzu, dare you to pierce your-” 

Ah, fuck. Piercings. Kakuzu clicked his tongue and tried to ignore the way everybody leaned forward in anticipation as Tobi dragged the last word out, tilting his head one way and another as he tried to decide Kakuzu’s fate. A wide smile finally graced Tobi’s face and Kakuzu closed his eyes to await his doom. 

“-pierce your ear!” 

Oh. Kakuzu opened his eyes. Well that wasn’t too bad, he considered as a collective noise of disappointment sounded through the room; Konan blew a raspberry as she got up.

“Tobi, you're boring. Come on, Kakuzu.”

 

Hidan watced his babysitter heave himself up with a sigh.  “You guys usually pierce shit?” he asked nobody in particular as Kakuzu and Konan disappeared behind the bathroom door.

“Sometimes.” Kisame raised his eyebrows as he took it upon himself to spin the bottle with a clatter. “At least it’s only an ear for him. Try explaining nipple piercings to your swimming coach.”

And with that bombshell still sitting in Hidan’s thoughts, the game went on with temporarily neither Konan nor Kakuzu.

 

Itachi was dared to sing the entirety of Tobi’s youtube channel intro (something disgustingly cheerful and catchy about friendship) out of a window through a megaphone.

Pein braved the shot of tabasco sauce and dirty dishwashing liquid he got from Itachi, and took great satisfaction in ignoring the question completely and instead talking about some obscure local legend really happening, because everything that comes out of his mouth is absolute truth, according to him. Hidan tuned him out after the second minute in.

Deidara, to his own delight, had to go outside and unleash a large handful of bouncy balls with small firecrackers stuffed inside.

Tobi ate Zetsu’s cooking.

Hidan thought the entire thing was so hilarious, he nearly missed Kakuzu and Konan slipping unceremoniously back into the room just as an ashen-faced Tobi spun the bottle onto Hidan. 

“Truth or dare, Hidan?”

“Dare,” Hidan said, practically rocking on his legs in excitement as Tobi opened his mouth.

“Hidan, I dare you not to talk about Jashin for the rest of the night,” Kakuzu suddenly interrupted, ignoring the splutter of protest from Tobi as he slid into his spot by Hidan’s side. 

“And miss the chance to teach these fucking heathens about the glory of Jashin? Not a fucking chance, ‘Kuzu,” Hidan snorted. “What’s up with your hair?”

“Piercing’s fresh,” Kakuzu muttered, swaying his new ponytail around, sort of enjoying the way the air felt against the 2 new golden hoops in his earlobe. Konan had lent him the hair tie, and then told him there was no way he was walking out of the room with only a single piercing.

There was a rustling as the people on the other side of the circle all turned to look at either Kakuzu or Hidan. Three people spoke at the same time, creating a messy cacophony of “what’s Jashin?” and “the hell, did he just call you ‘Kuzu’? How come we never-” and “he stole my  _ turn-” _

Hidan, however, had kept on talking. “They need to know and appreciate Jashin, it’s fucking crucial that they learn about the  _ only  _ game that fucking matters, fucking superiour and-”

"And there we go," Kakuzu muttered to himself, closing his eyes as Hidan launched himself into another rant about the "godly" video game. Unlike everybody else, who were now discovering the actual, horrifying depth of Hidan’s...passion for Jashin and were now stuck listening to an over-enthusiastic murderous lecture, Kakuzu could tune Hidan out with no problem. After sitting through it so many times, Kakuzu could almost recite Hidan’s Jashinism rant by heart.

Payback for ear, completed.

 

They managed to shut Hidan up after nearly 10 full minutes of talking. And then, since he had, technically, not completed his dare, Hidan was subjected to the punishment round of permanent marker scribbles on his limbs by everybody present (Kakuzu went for a tiny spider-thing just above Hidan’s ankle, just because he knew Hidan would hate it).  A lot of swearing and complaining, but he did it.

He also sat in relative silence for the next couple of rounds of Zetsu and Pein making bad decisions with balloons and mayonnaise, which was odd. Kakuzu was almost concerned about the quietness until he glanced over and saw Hidan adding on familiar inverted triangles to all his new ‘designs’, and swearing under his breath whenever they came out wonky. Dumbass, Kakuzu snorted.

He let Hidan mostly mind his own business until the fates controlling the evening aligned to create chaos: Itachi’s bottle landed on Sasori. Kakuzu immediately elbowed Hidan to get his attention.

“You’ll want to see this,” he murmured, tilting a promising chin at the situation about to develop. Battle of the best.

“Sasori.” Itachi gazed unblinkingly at his friend, the only movement betraying his humanity was his breathing. “Truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Sasori stared stonily back at the Uchiha. Seemed like he had had enough of drinking combinations that weren’t meant to be drunk. 

Everyone leaned forward to hear Sasori’s death sentence: Hidan actually put down his marker.

Itachi seemed to decide on his verdict carefully; Kakuzu honestly couldnät tell if everyone was holding their breath or not when Itachi finallt opened his mouth. “Wear a Naruto headband to school for a week.”

Ouch. That was a  _ bad  _ one.

Sasori blinked. And then frowned. “The ninja guy?” he asked, ignoring everyone’s snickers in addition to Tobi’s raucous laughter and Kisame’s snort of ‘goddamn, Itachi, cruel.’

“Don’t we have a kid named Naruto at our school?” Zetsu suddenly asked nobody in particular. A hazy memory of a blond fourth-grader in a bright orange, paint-splattered t-shirt filtered its way into Kakuzu’s head. Was he really named Naruto?

Itachi nodded solemnly. “My brother won't stop talking about him.”

“Jesus.”

“I don’t have a Naruto headband,” Sasori finally interrupted Tobi’s dying chuckles, leaning back onto the sofa.

“I do,” Pein said off-handedly. Half the circle stared at Pein with matching expressions of bafflement; he raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“No, it’s just- can’t really imagine you liking Naruto.”

Konan snorted. “Where do you think he got his hairstyle from?”  Pein did nothing to neither confirm nor deny the statement.

“You guys had some damn weird phases back in middle school,” Zetsu commented absently from the side, tapping their bottle against their chin in thought. “Pein did his Naruto thing and Tobi collected masks, and Kakuzu’s whole edgy phase with the stitches and-”

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Kakuzu tackled Zetsu before they could finish. Zetsu, however, wasn’t done. “-eyeliner stitches and the  _ mmffph- _ ” Kakuzu smothered the rest of the sentence with his hand, ears burning. Zetsu struggled wildly before resorting to the far more effective tactic of licking Kakuzu’s fingers, and continued like they were never interrupted. “Drew stitches with eyeliner, and fake tattoos on his-”

“Shut  _ up _ ,” Kakuzu hissed, cramming his hand back over Zetsu’s treacherous mouth.

All of a suddenly Hidan’s whole face lit up and Kakuzu felt his blood turn icy in betrayal.  _ ”I remember that shit!” _

“Hidan-” he started, eyebrows drawn high in warning as he turned to look at the kid. Hidan wouldn't really-  come  _ on _ , even he couldn't-

“Yeah, I remember ‘Kuzu’s stitches,” Hidan told the circle, staring Kakuzu straight in the eyes. This fucker knew exactly what he was doing.  “Saw them a few months ago.”

“Wait, a few months ago?” Konan, of all people, whipped around to tilt her head and point at Kakuzu. “We haven’t seen him doing stitches in about a year now.”

Hidan shook his head. “Definitely months, the bastard wasn’t hired until -what the fuck was it, November?”

Kakuzu buried his face in his hands and prayed for instant death. All the attention from Sasori’s terribly consequenced dare had long since shifted onto him and he was pretty sure the judgement for his was definitely the worse of the two.

“Might have a fuckin’ picture somewhere, hold on-”

No ‘hold on’. Was it ethical to tackle a 13-year old?  Oh who fucking cared, Hidan was already starting his growth spurt anyway, he could handle himself, Kakuzu considered as he launched himself at Hidan.

If there was anything Kakuzu had confirmed for himself by tackling the brat, it was that a) Hidan had no problem fighting dirty, and b) Hidan was way stronger than his small-ish frame would suggest. A brief interference from Kisame, and both of them were sentenced back to their seats to examine their new bruises and, in Kakuzu’s case, a fucking bite mark on his forearm. Meanwhile, Deidara had an eyebrow shaved off by Sasori.

“I can’t believe you bit me,” Kakuzu whispered seethingly at the gremlin sitting beside him. Hidan looked unreasonably proud of himself. 

“Can’t believe you fucking tackled me.” Hidam whispered back, but he was smiling broadly. “All because of a picture that I made the fuck up-”

Kakuzu bristled. “You  _ shit _ , I knew you didn’t have-” 

“Hey you two,” Konan interrupted and they turned to look at her.  “The bottle landed on Hidan.”

Oh. So it had.

Still side-eyeing Kakuzu, Hidan mulled over his options and seemed to come to one of the first smart conclusions Kakuzu had seen him at:  he would be metaphorically eviscerated, no matter who gave him the dare. “Truth.” Hidan knocked back the pickle juice handed to him and smacked his lips like he was actually taking a shot; Deidara scoffed.

Konan stared down at him. “Why do you keep staring at Kakuzu’s earring?”

Of all the things Kakuzu was expecting to happen, Hidan blanching and then immediately turning bright scarlet was not one of them. 

“I-I’m not,” he protested, voice suspiciously high-pitched. “Fuck off, I’m not!” he said again when nearly everyone in the circle tried to bite back their grins with varying degrees of success. Kakuzu raised an eyebrow. “It looks fucking stupid,” Hidan blurted, crossing his arms. 

Kakuzu decided to ignore all the looks he was getting right now. There was a time and a place to embarrass Hidan, but it wasn’t in the middle of a group of almost-strangers.

On the other side of the circle, Kisame stretched noisily before settling a forearm on Itachi’s shoulder with a pleased expression. “Kakuzu, you still planning to study medicine, right?”

Oddly thankful for the change of topic, Kakuzu nodded. “Leaving in August.” Kisame nodded back.

“Right. I maybe-might know a guy who can get you cheaper rooming if you want it; it isn’t the prettiest, but everything’s supposed to work and the dorms are pricier to heat.”

Oh, Kakuzu blinked. This was good news. Excellent news in fact: the dormroom and apartment prices over in Konoha had skyrocketed a few years ago, right after they opened new departments in the local university. “That sounds good,” he nodded again. The aesthetics of the rooms didn’t matter to him; everything was fine as long as he had a bed, an internet connection and maybe a place for-

The bottle of whiskey clattered against the floorboards and Kakuzu turned to see Hidan staring at him.

“You didn’t tell me you were fucking leaving.”

“College,” Kakuzu grunted, pulling his thoughts from possibly shitty apartments into the present. “Konoha.”

“Right.” Hidan’s voice was oddly cold and Kakuzu nearly raised an eyebrow at him. “Kakuzu, what the fuck.”

“What?”

“You’re going to fucking Konoha?”

Now, Kakuzu did raise an eyebrow at Hidan’s face. “It’s the best.”

“It’s on the other side of the fucking country,” Hidan snapped, expression tense.

Kakuzu was suddenly very aware of everyone watching them silently, and he wished, not for the first time, that Hidan would choose better times and places for his conversations. “It is.”

Hidan stared up at him for another too-long moment, eyes full of fire. Then he scoffed and uncrossed his arms to spin the nearly-empty bottle. “Fucking bullshit motherfucker-” he started, swinging the bottle with way too much force than necessary, sending it straight into one of the metal sofa legs before anybody could stop it.

The bottle shattered. The entire gang watched in silence as the little bit of whiskey that had been left inside flooded out over the floorboards.

God, Hidan, what the fuck, Kakuzu wanted to sigh as whiskey seeped into his socks.

This silence was stretching way too long to be comfortable. Everyone was agonizingly doing their best to not look at Hidan nor Kakuzu, and it was driving him insane. 

Kakuzu sighed. "I think it's time we leave."   
  


\---

 

Hidan was oddly silent on their way back. However, they weren’t even half a block away from their house when Hidan suddenly stopped in his tracks altogether. “‘Kuzu, I-”

Oh. 

Oh no.

Kakuzu knew exactly where this was heading.

Hidan’s little crush on him was sort of annoying, but it was harmless, under control. And maybe, if Kakuzu was being completely honest with himself, it was just a tiny bit adorable - although he would have rather paid someone to punch him in the face than admit it.

The problem with Hidan’s little crush was, that it was very, very, obvious.

Hidan kept his eyes everywhere except on Kakuzu’s face. “I’m not- fucking good with all the sappy bullshit stuff, and-”

Kakuzu sighed and wondered why the gods had punished him with this. “Hidan, stop.”

“No, I need to fucking tell you-”

“Hidan,” Kakuzu cut him off again. 

“-bullshit-”

_ “ _ Goddamn it-  _ Hidan.”  _ This time, Hidan finally stopped talking. Kakuzu took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down a bit, before he did something really stupid. “I know.”

If he was shocked to hear that, Hidan did an exceptional job of hiding it, still staring antsily somewhere at Kakuzu’s chest. Kakuzu sighed again.  “Listen, Hidan. It’s not like I’m going away forever, it’s just college.”

Hidan crossed his arms and mumbled something that sounded something like, “you didn’t fucking tell me.”

“I didn’t tell you, because it seemed obvious I’d be going after I finish high school.” Kakuzu rolled his eyes. “What did you think I was studying for all the time?”

Something in Hidan’s head seemed to be churning away overtime, judging by the expression on his face. He kicked a tiny rock onto Kakuzu’s shoe. “Whatever. You’re still a fucking asshole.”

“I guess,” Kakuzu relented.

“You don’t know what I was gonna tell you.”

“Hidan,” Kakuzu snorted, and for the first time during the conversation, Hidan looked at him. “I’m not blind, I’m old. You’re not.”

Hidan’s mouth fell into a neat ‘O’. For a moment Kakuzu thought he had gotten through to the brat, but then Hidan frowned. “You’re not  _ that  _ much fucking older.”

Kakuzu raised an eyebrow. “I’m nearly 18, too old for you anyway.”

Hidan seemed to consider it. Then, the nearby lamppost illuminated his smug flash of teeth. “For now.”

“Shut up,” Kakuzu snorted, ruffling Hidan’s unruly hair and getting smacked for it. “Seriously, I’m not going away forever.”

“You’d better fucking not.”

“I’ll be home during summers. Maybe some other breaks too,” Kakuzu said, scratching his chin as he started walking again. Hidan’s shocked expression appeared by his elbow as Hidan caught up with his babysitter.

“You can fucking visit me?”

“Where exactly do you think I’m going? Jail?” Kakuzu cocked an eyebrow.

“Same fucking thing,” Hidan shrugged. He was quiet for a moment before turning back to Kakuzu. “I’m not gonna fucking say sorry about the party.”

Kakuzu scoffed before he could help himself. “Doesn’t matter. I’m sure they’ll invite you back sometime anyway.”

He got a dubious look. “What makes you so fucking sure about that?”

“You were already better company than Orochimaru.”

 

\---

 

Kakuzu snorted dryly when he found the Jashinist pendant in his coat pocket, all tangled up in his headphones. 

Hidan must have slipped it in before he left, the sneaky little shit. Surprising that Kakuzu didn’t catch him when he did.

The handmade video game pendant weighed heavy in his palm, the metal cheap and still rough because Hidan had refused to sand it down any more; said something about the sharpness not being that bad despite all the scratches it left on him.

Seemed stupid to keep it, Kakuzu thought, already moving towards his new trash can to throw the pointless decoration inside. 

But. 

It  _ was  _ one of Hidan’s most prized possessions. 

Kakuzu stared at it for way too long before he sighed and placed the clinking metal on a shelf instead.

For some reason, it seemed just as stupid to throw it away.


	6. Epilogue

“You made me half an hour late, I am not tipping you,” Kakuzu grunted as he got out of the taxi. Immediately as the door closed, the car sped off, leaving Kakuzu glowering in a cloud of nasty-smelling smoke. He swore under his breath and turned around to face the crowd of teenagers swarming around the building.

Damn it all, it looked like he missed the entire thing.

He sighed and started scanning the crowd, finally spotting the owner of a familiar flash of silvery-gray hair perched on what looked like the hood of a car, amidst a gaggle of other graduates no doubt curious about where he was heading next. Looked like Hidan hadn’t lied about his popularity.  Kakuzu sighed again and settled himself against a pole to wait. There was absolutely no way he was elbowing through that mass of teenagers. He could wait just a little longer, and by the looks of it, Hidan could too.

Most of them were so....small, Kakuzu thought as he eyed the crowd, squinting when a group of graduates ran past, not even one of them taller than his shoulder. What the hell. Had he looked this young when he was 18? 

Even Hidan was a smidge older-looking compared to his peers. Although, Kakuzu supposed, that was probably because he really  _ was _ a year older than most of them, and not because of the leather jacket he seemed to have already swapped for his graduation robe.

Despite all the near-daily Skype calls and Kakuzu’s attempts at online tutoring, Hidan was held back his final year.  The dumbass graduated at 19.

Hidan’s cackling laughter reached Kakuzu’s ears even over all the people, and he scoffed despite himself. Years may have passed, but Hidan still laughed like that 12-year old supergluing Kakuzu’s wallet shut.

Oh. Hidan finally saw him.

“Kakuzu!” 

Kakuzu nodded back as Hidan practically launched himself off the car and started shoving his way through the crowd. 

Seemed unreal how much a person could change in a few months time; and yet, since the last time Kakuzu visited in the summer, Hidan had grown even taller, had grown even broader, and had grown -if possible- even more annoying. Just barely past his chin, Kakuzu noticed with a jolt as Hidan finally reached him and tried his best to cheerfully punch Kakuzu in the shoulder.

“‘Kuzu, you’re late, you bastard!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Kakuzu grunted. “Taxi driver was terrible,” he added after a moment.

Hidan actually did a double-take at that. “You? Paying for a fucking taxi?” 

“Shut it.”

“Next thing you know, you’ll bring me a fuckin’ present,” Hidan leaned in way too close, voice all sing-song. “It’s almost like you  _ caareeee- _ ”

_ “ _ I said,  _ shut it _ .” Kakuzu aimed a kick at the annoyance. Hidan cackled and dodged.

“So whatd’ya get me?”

Kakuzu snorted as Hidan tried his best to drape himself over the taller man’s shoulders, tugging impatiently at the gift bag in Kakuzu's hands. “Stop pulling on my suit.”

“Stop being fucking taller than me,” Hidan shot back as he managed to dig his fingers through the fancy paper. Kakuzu managed to wrestle him off just long enough to get the contents of the bag out himself ( _ “Let me see, asshole,” _ ), and then he pressed the fistful of cold metal into Hidan's hands and watched him go quiet in surprise. 

“'Kuzu, you-” Hidan started, letting the Jashinist pendant dangle from his fingers so he could look at it; Kakuzu could see the glint of a matching chain around Hidan's neck. “You  _ sap! _ ” 

Hidan cackled.

Kakuzu wouldn't have expected anything else from him.

“What the fuck, did you make this?” Hidan asked, admiring the way the delicate silver lines sparkled against his skin. 

“Improved it.”

“Impr- did you  _ buy  _ this?”

Kakuzu considered kicking him again. “Don’t be an idiot.” 

A sly grin spread over Hidan’s face as it began to dawn on him. “Is this the one I made when I was a fucking kid?” When Kakuzu said nothing, Hidan started snickering. “Holy  _ shit,  _ Kuzu, that’s gay.”

This time, Kakuzu did kick him.

Still sniggering, Hidan pulled his old necklace off and did his best to sling it around Kakuzu’s neck. “That one’s for you,” he commented as the chain caught on Kakuzu’s ear.

Kakuzu snorted dryly.

“And this fucking beauty-” Hidan started, lifting Kakuzu’s present over his head uncharacteristically graceful and slow. Two pairs of eyes watched it settle on Hidan’s chest, “-is mine. Praised be Jashin.” 

Kakuzu wasn’t one to usually brag, but he felt like he  _ had  _ done an excellent job with the necklace; practically leagues above the one now hanging around his own neck, carved by Hidan a few months after Kakuzu left for college. It looked like it truly belonged there.

“So? How do I fuckin’ look?”

Once upon a time, long ago, Kakuzu had been right: slicked-back hair really did suit Hidan once he got older. Brought his sharpened features and four sets of earrings out nicely. Kakuzu swallowed. Hidan looked-

“Old.”

“Hey!”   


Kakuzu returned Hidan’s rude gesture and they both snorted, followed by Hidan crossing his arms and leaning back for a moment to look at the people around them. Kakuzu watched him.

“Anybody you want to say goodbye to?” he asked. Hidan scoffed before answering.

“Nah, not fucking really. Blondie’s gonna be hanging with us anyway, and the rest of them are bitches.” He hummed to himself contently before looking back to Kakuzu. “You telling me you said bye to anyone outside the gang?”

Now it was Kakuzu’s turn to scoff. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Don’t be a fucking dick, that’s my job,” Hidan tried kicking him in the shin again. Kakuzu retaliated until Hidan cackled and hopped backwards way out of his reach. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Kuzu!” 

Kakuzu rolled his eyes. “What?”

Hidan broke into one of the single most cockiest smiles Kakuzu had ever seen on him, and Kakuzu would have been lying if he said it didn’t suit the guy. “You still single?”

There was a beat of silence as Kakuzu watched Hidan slowly stalk back into kicking range. It was tempting to try and land a neat hit on Hidan, and reject him one last time, just for the principle of it.

It was so  _ tempting. _

And yet, for some reason instead -  Kakuzu found himself rolling his eyes and leaning off the pole to close the final few steps between them. Magenta eyes and a flash of teeth sparkled up at him.

“Didn’t I tell you not to ask stupid questions?”

Instead of answering, Hidan pulled Kakuzu down by his jacket and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3c

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr


End file.
